Comment: Ok, this is as fluffy as it gets. Hey, don't complain, there's a bed in it, isn't there?
But beware, there is still darkness lurking somewhere, and we KNOW perfect bliss is seldom very longlived in Sunnydale. If you and I get very, very lucky, we even may hear some stories about it...:))
This is for Caroline X, for bringing out the Fluff in me :)), and for general sweetness and support. Thanks!!
Epilogue
"Small hands that hold
the passing of time-
sweet lips that offer
the wisdom of men-
a spirit that brings with it
the wind that sweeps the desert.
Eyes blue as a true heart...
- that's it. That's as far as I got."
"And you never wrote another poem after that?"
"No. I was... otherwise engaged, all of a sudden."
Willow didn't want to follow that line of conversation, so instead she said:
"That was beautiful, William."
"That piece of fluff? Naw, just sentimental nonsense." But he smiled, drew her closer to him and kissed her temple. Lately, he had been toying with the idea of giving the old rhyming-machine another try. A two-century-old piece of fluff was as good a start as any - and he liked that part about the desert. It reminded him of his Willow, her spirit so strong and her skin so warm against his...
HIS Willow. There it was again. What an absurd thought. The thought of a man who would still look into the future, who would still believe... He had not been that kind of man for a long time.
Spike slid his arm from under her shoulders and leaned on the other elbow to look out of the window, then at the clock. Three. A long time until dawn yet.
Willow knew he was thinking of leaving. She knew he would leave, eventually, but this was too soon, too soon! It had taken her two weeks to convince Buffy to spend a night with Riley (two weeks! to spend a night with Riley!!!), so Spike would have a chance to come visit her at the dorm, if he wanted. Willow hadn't invited him explicitly, just mentioned that Buffy would be out the whole night. By the look he gave her, she knew that he knew, of course. She wanted him to come and be with her, but she didn't dare ask him to do it. It would hurt too much if he didn't come.
But he had come, and now Willow was fighting to keep him with her another hour, or just half an hour, a couple of minutes, because when he left the icey cold would begin to grow in her again, and she would feel her strength flowing out of her body. How strange love was, that it would make physical pain out of a mere absence...
"William?"
"Yes?" He let himself fall back on the bed, but didn't take her in his arms again.
"Were you thinking of someone?"
"Huh?"
"When you wrote that poem. Were you thinking of someone - special?"
He turned his head to look at her and smiled.
"No, my- No, Red. I was just dreaming." After a thoughtful pause he added: "It seems strange that I should still be able to do that."
"What... writing poems?"
"No, dreaming. I've lost the ability for so many other things..."
"What things?"
Almost unconsciously, he put his arm around her again and let her rest her head against his chest.
"Well, like... compassion, for example. That's the first to go. You can't afford it when you feed on others for survival - and you don't need it when you do it for pleasure."
Willow tried not to shudder. She tried not to think about what she had felt when that soldier's head had thumped on the floor of the cell...
"Then you lose hope. What do men hope for? Money, a long life, women, salvation in eternity... everything one could possibly hope for comes naturally with being a vampire - except for the salvation, of course."
"Of course", Willow whispered.
"And last of all, you lose curiosity. The ultimate motive that keeps humans going is not survival instinct, it's not love, or fear of death, or even that soddin' eternal salvation business.... it's curiosity, pure and simple. What's going to happen next? Tomorrow, next week, next Christmas, after the wedding? What's behind the next corner? And the next?"
He paused again.
"You see, there comes a time when you've turned every corner, when you've already SEEN the next day, and you know what no one else knows."
"And what is that?"
"That it's just like the day before."
After that, they had been silent, and Willow could feel him drifting farther and farther away from her. Until she couldn't take it any longer. Sadness threatened to overcome her, and she wouldn't cry in front of him. Not on their first night. He would despise her, and maybe come to the conclusion that she wasn't strong enough to be his, that she wasn't worth it. So she had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and when she came back, he was gone.
--------------
And now she lay in the bed they had shared, her eyes closed, breathing slowly. Waiting. She couldn't have said what she was waiting for. She kept her eyes shut, she kept breathing. Willow waited. Finally, she fell asleep.
--------------
A cool breeze brushing her ear woke her. She blinked. It must be day, because sunlight was creeping into the room under the door. But the blinds were down and the curtains drawn. How could she have felt a breeze, then?
"Good morning, William", she whispered.
"Go back to sleep. It's still early." Now she was aware of his arms surrounding her, aware (oh, so aware!) of his naked body against her back.
Tears swelled in her eyes and dropped heavy on the pillow, but she managed to keep her voice steady.
"Forgot something?"
"Yes, I... I came back for my cigarettes, and then the sun was coming up already, so I had to stay, and, um... well, I didn't really want to sleep on Buffy's bed, so... I hope you don't mind."
"No, I don't mind."
Willow smiled, then ventured:
"You know, I saw you put your cigarettes in the pocket of your new jacket, and you took that when you left."
"Did I now?"
"Mhm."
"Well, why don't we pretend I didn't? Then maybe we can pretend you didn't just ruin a perfectly good pillow by crying all over it."
She could feel him smile against the back of her neck, making the fine hair there stand on end. His hand traced the length of her arm.
"Go back to sleep. I will be here when you wake up."
Willow closed her eyes.
But beware, there is still darkness lurking somewhere, and we KNOW perfect bliss is seldom very longlived in Sunnydale. If you and I get very, very lucky, we even may hear some stories about it...:))
This is for Caroline X, for bringing out the Fluff in me :)), and for general sweetness and support. Thanks!!
Epilogue
"Small hands that hold
the passing of time-
sweet lips that offer
the wisdom of men-
a spirit that brings with it
the wind that sweeps the desert.
Eyes blue as a true heart...
- that's it. That's as far as I got."
"And you never wrote another poem after that?"
"No. I was... otherwise engaged, all of a sudden."
Willow didn't want to follow that line of conversation, so instead she said:
"That was beautiful, William."
"That piece of fluff? Naw, just sentimental nonsense." But he smiled, drew her closer to him and kissed her temple. Lately, he had been toying with the idea of giving the old rhyming-machine another try. A two-century-old piece of fluff was as good a start as any - and he liked that part about the desert. It reminded him of his Willow, her spirit so strong and her skin so warm against his...
HIS Willow. There it was again. What an absurd thought. The thought of a man who would still look into the future, who would still believe... He had not been that kind of man for a long time.
Spike slid his arm from under her shoulders and leaned on the other elbow to look out of the window, then at the clock. Three. A long time until dawn yet.
Willow knew he was thinking of leaving. She knew he would leave, eventually, but this was too soon, too soon! It had taken her two weeks to convince Buffy to spend a night with Riley (two weeks! to spend a night with Riley!!!), so Spike would have a chance to come visit her at the dorm, if he wanted. Willow hadn't invited him explicitly, just mentioned that Buffy would be out the whole night. By the look he gave her, she knew that he knew, of course. She wanted him to come and be with her, but she didn't dare ask him to do it. It would hurt too much if he didn't come.
But he had come, and now Willow was fighting to keep him with her another hour, or just half an hour, a couple of minutes, because when he left the icey cold would begin to grow in her again, and she would feel her strength flowing out of her body. How strange love was, that it would make physical pain out of a mere absence...
"William?"
"Yes?" He let himself fall back on the bed, but didn't take her in his arms again.
"Were you thinking of someone?"
"Huh?"
"When you wrote that poem. Were you thinking of someone - special?"
He turned his head to look at her and smiled.
"No, my- No, Red. I was just dreaming." After a thoughtful pause he added: "It seems strange that I should still be able to do that."
"What... writing poems?"
"No, dreaming. I've lost the ability for so many other things..."
"What things?"
Almost unconsciously, he put his arm around her again and let her rest her head against his chest.
"Well, like... compassion, for example. That's the first to go. You can't afford it when you feed on others for survival - and you don't need it when you do it for pleasure."
Willow tried not to shudder. She tried not to think about what she had felt when that soldier's head had thumped on the floor of the cell...
"Then you lose hope. What do men hope for? Money, a long life, women, salvation in eternity... everything one could possibly hope for comes naturally with being a vampire - except for the salvation, of course."
"Of course", Willow whispered.
"And last of all, you lose curiosity. The ultimate motive that keeps humans going is not survival instinct, it's not love, or fear of death, or even that soddin' eternal salvation business.... it's curiosity, pure and simple. What's going to happen next? Tomorrow, next week, next Christmas, after the wedding? What's behind the next corner? And the next?"
He paused again.
"You see, there comes a time when you've turned every corner, when you've already SEEN the next day, and you know what no one else knows."
"And what is that?"
"That it's just like the day before."
After that, they had been silent, and Willow could feel him drifting farther and farther away from her. Until she couldn't take it any longer. Sadness threatened to overcome her, and she wouldn't cry in front of him. Not on their first night. He would despise her, and maybe come to the conclusion that she wasn't strong enough to be his, that she wasn't worth it. So she had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and when she came back, he was gone.
--------------
And now she lay in the bed they had shared, her eyes closed, breathing slowly. Waiting. She couldn't have said what she was waiting for. She kept her eyes shut, she kept breathing. Willow waited. Finally, she fell asleep.
--------------
A cool breeze brushing her ear woke her. She blinked. It must be day, because sunlight was creeping into the room under the door. But the blinds were down and the curtains drawn. How could she have felt a breeze, then?
"Good morning, William", she whispered.
"Go back to sleep. It's still early." Now she was aware of his arms surrounding her, aware (oh, so aware!) of his naked body against her back.
Tears swelled in her eyes and dropped heavy on the pillow, but she managed to keep her voice steady.
"Forgot something?"
"Yes, I... I came back for my cigarettes, and then the sun was coming up already, so I had to stay, and, um... well, I didn't really want to sleep on Buffy's bed, so... I hope you don't mind."
"No, I don't mind."
Willow smiled, then ventured:
"You know, I saw you put your cigarettes in the pocket of your new jacket, and you took that when you left."
"Did I now?"
"Mhm."
"Well, why don't we pretend I didn't? Then maybe we can pretend you didn't just ruin a perfectly good pillow by crying all over it."
She could feel him smile against the back of her neck, making the fine hair there stand on end. His hand traced the length of her arm.
"Go back to sleep. I will be here when you wake up."
Willow closed her eyes.